


Gangsta Part One

by Killmongersmistress (teakturn)



Series: Musical Oneshots [1]
Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bruises, Dark, Erik Being Cocky, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Light Dom/sub, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Erik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-19 20:54:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17009025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teakturn/pseuds/Killmongersmistress
Summary: Okay, so I have this idea of Killmonger x Black!OC one-shots connected by characters and based off of different songs. This is the first in the possible series based off of Kehlani’s song.





	Gangsta Part One

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on my blog and is apart of my Musical Oneshot series.

_“You think that hood nigga loves you?”_

Jolie raised her arm for another drink, within seconds the bartender placed a fresh glass in front of her. With a smile and a quiet thank you, Jolie focused on taking careful sips of her mojito. Noise and chaos surrounded her. A party if one could call it that. She’d seen better. Had hosted better. As much as she wanted to she couldn’t leave until they’d gotten what they had come for. So Jolie sat at the bar, ordering her favorite drink and willing the people around her to read her body language and leave her the fuck alone.

_“Don’t come crawling back once you’re pregnant with that nigga’s baby.”_

A flash of gold out the corner of her made Jolie turn her head towards the VIP section. The area was usually teeming with celebrities and groupies, tonight, however, the whole section had been reserved for the most important person in this entire city. Killmonger. Jolie couldn’t see much through the golden beaded curtains, but she could see the smooth russet brown of his skin, the dark of his hair, and the shadow over his eyes from the flashing lights.

He looked like a king, a mirage. His companion was a profusely sweating white man who kept nervously looking around him. As if at any moment the partiers would all turn against him. Or worse yet, his wife would come in and catch him in the act. This was a strip club, after all, one with a reputation for dancers that just danced and dancers that offered a lot more. The _blackcat_ was Killmonger’s joint. It offered an exclusive luxurious atmosphere that other strip clubs didn’t have the money to even imitate.

But as good as the dancers were, as amazing as the interior was, none of it came close to the man himself. If you didn’t know who Killmonger was you were as ignorant as you were a dead man. Practically everyone in this room was after him in one way or another. They wanted his influence, his money, his protection, his fame. Like Jolie, they all stared at the VIP section, fiending for a glimpse of the king himself.

_“A drug dealer JoLee? What kind of life do you expect to have with a man like that?”_

“Hello, beautiful may I buy you a drink?” A man sat, uninvited, in one of the vacant seats surrounding Jolie. He was pretty, in a young Morris Chestnut kind of way. When Jolie tore her eyes away from the VIP section he smiled flirtatiously at her.

Quickly, Jolie allowed her eyes to travel up and down his frame. He wore a nice watch, expensive but reliable. Not a Rolex, even over the music she could hear the ticking. The band looked worn, which meant this was either his only watch or one he wore often. His pants were well fitted, but not as well fitted as they could have been if he had a tailor. His head was shaved, his skin looked smooth.

All in all, she suspected he was a man of decent means, but nothing that would impress her.

With a smirk, Jolie lifted the drink she already had and took a pointed sip from her straw. Hopefully, the man would take the hint and move on. Then again the man had been foolish enough to sit next to her.

The man smiled, embarrassed and then extended a hand to her, “Since you already have a drink why don’t I introduce myself. I’m Marcus,” Jolie stared at the hand he had extended in the space between them. Still sipping on her mojito she brought her hazel eyes back up to the face of the man in front of her. Marcus was either an idiot or incredibly new.

Jolie looked over to the VIP section again. Killmonger and his companion were standing now, much more visible to the rest of the room. The sweaty white man appeared to still be talking but Killmonger’s attention was now on the rest of the club. He was dressed to kill tonight. Black and gold, his colors, looked as natural on his skin as the gold grill he had in his mouth. Noticing his attention was back on the room at large the Dj made an announcement to the room, barely discernible over the already deafening music. But it made the crowd cheer and caused Killmonger to smile.

Even while smiling the man looked like a predator. The smile never reached his eyes, eyes that studied every corner of the room before finally landing on Jolie.

“Who’s that guy?” Marcus asked.

Jolie looked at him in surprise. She’d forgotten he was there, to be honest. When Killmonger was in the room why would she need to look at anyone, least of all a nigga who didn’t know what the hell he’d gotten himself into?

“Killmonger,” Jolie answered, her eyes never leaving the man in question. While Killmonger dismissed his sweaty companion Jolie filled in the clueless Marcus.

“He owns this club and a few others. He’s also the main supplier of anything you need in the city.” Jolie looked away from Killmonger long enough to lock eyes with Marcus, “He’s also a nigga you wouldn’t want to fuck with.”

Marcu’s eyes widened and together they watched as Killmonger moved through the crowd of people like a god. Of the people that approached him he had exactly seconds to capture his attention before he was moving on. Those who couldn’t catch his eyes settled for touching him. As if touching his skin was a blessing.

“How come you’re not out there with the other worshipers? Not a big fan of the guy?” Marcus was back to trying to flirt with her. He smiled, showing those pretty teeth and a dimple in one cheek.

Jolie hummed, unwilling to answer either way.

“I mean, a nigga named Killmonger. Who does that?” Marcus chuckled by himself. One of the bartenders locked eyes with Jolie.

“He didn’t come up with it. The name sort of just…” Jolie smiled a slow, knowing smile, “Stuck. You know how people like to gossip.”

Marcus nodded, oblivious to Jolie’s tone and the way the bartenders had started moving the top shelf liquor to a safer location underneath the bar itself.

“Well, you don’t seem to be stuck on this guys dick like everyone else,” Marcus leaned towards her until there was very little space between them, “What makes you so special?”

Jolie smirked. Marcus was a deadman and he didn’t even know it. Why not have some fun?

Closing the distance between them Jolie smiled, “Wanna know what makes me so special?” Marcus’ eyes filled with lust. He nodded dumbly.

Slowly, so slowly only someone with the eyes of a hawk, or say a sharpshooter, would be able to see what she was doing, Jolie grabbed Marcus’ hand off the bar and placed it on her knee. With the other hand she began to lift the hem of her dress, not too far because sitting down the dress barely managed to cover her thighs. Without breaking eye contact Jolie opened her legs so that Marcus sat facing the cradle of her hips. Placing his hand on her inner thigh, Jolie leaned closer to speak right into Marcus’ ear.

“I have these,” There, on her thigh, were bruises so dark they were almost black. They spanned her entire thigh. Black, blue, and purple splotches in the shapes of fingers and presumably large hands. When Jolie brushed Marcus’ hands against them the feeling hurt so good she moaned.

With a shocked look in his eyes, Marcus yanked his hand out of her grip and reeled away from her. “What the f-” Jolie’s laugh interrupted his sentence. He stared with growing horror as Jolie continued to giggle.

“You crazy bitch!” Marcus stood up from the barstool so abruptly he almost fell. Luckily, Killmonger was there with a steadying hand on the back of his neck.

“Who the fuck you think you talking to?” Killmonger didn’t have to shout to be heard over the music because his body language was louder than anything the Dj was playing. A slow smile crept across Jolie’s face as she watched Marcus, who hadn’t said a word the second he felt hands on him, regain his nerve and turn to face Killmonger will all the bravery of a man who didn’t know he was a dead man standing.

“Yo’ crazy ass bitch.” Marcus threw a hand back to point at Jolie.

Killmonger’s eyes narrowed. He raised one hand to signal to the Dj and the music shut off immediately. The dancers, who’d gone through this before, were already stepping down off the stages. The bartenders moved the expensive liquor underneath the bar and the retreated to the backroom with the waitresses. All the people who’d been dancing and having a good time didn’t make a sound as they all rushed to get the hell out of there.

Soon enough it was just Killmonger and his crew, Jolie, and Marcus The latter of which looked seconds away from shitting himself as he realized the full extent of the shit he’d just gotten himself into. The Dj gives Killmonger a respectful nod as he passes with what equipment he could carry in his arms. With sad eyes and a head shake, he blows out a sympathetic breath in Marcus’ direction.

“Now I don’t think I heard you. Say that shit again.” Killmonger challenged.


End file.
